Volventibus Annis
by dolly.the.sheep
Summary: Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth ... but first she has to learn to cope on a different Earth. postDoomsday fic. [chapter SIX now added]
1. dum spiro, spero

_**Excerpt from Torchwood file 'Doctor150467'**_

_"… of the Doctor's constant, his ever-present 'companion', we know surprisingly little. Records indicate that there used to be a considerable amount of data available, but it became corrupted several years ago by some sort of computer virus, known as Bad Wolf virus. What remains of the information is sketchy, but one piece of data stands out, as sources say it appeared after Bad Wolf virus corrupted the files. This incongruous piece of data is simply two short sentences – 'a furious Wolf, who knoweth not when to flee' and 'a Storm, an evil wind, which taketh vengeance'. Study has shown these quotes to be from an ancient text concerning Assyrian demons – the Wolf and the Storm are two of the Seven Evil Spirits of Babylonia, though the relevance of this information is uncertain. It has been suggested that the Wolf is a reference to the Bad Wolf virus, but the relevance of the Storm is less clear …"_

* * *

An hour after the Doctor had vanished for the last time, they still had not left the beach. Jackie and Pete were in the car, taking refuge from the biting Norwegian wind lest they put Jackie's health at risk. Rose refused to leave, taking refuge from her family on a nearby rock. She sat and watched the waves crash against the shore and tried to remember the exact shade of green the last ocean she had seen was. Where had it been? Somewhere obscure with another of the Doctor's unpronounceable alien place names. The details were hazy, but she remembered the Doctor's infectious laughter at her erratic attempts to get her tongue around the name. She bit back an involuntary smile at the memory, not wanting to be happy at a time like this. It didn't feel right. Not yet.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Mickey slowly saunter over and squat down next to her, resting on his haunches. He followed her eyeline to the horizon and gave a tiny sigh.

"He's not coming back, y'know," he said sadly. Rose nodded, although whether it was to acknowledge his statement or refute it he wasn't certain. "This is one of those times he was right."

"I know," Rose replied in a tiny voice. "I just … I don't want to start forgetting him right now."

"I understand," said Mickey, "but stay here any longer and you'll catch hypothermia or something." He took off his coat and slipped it around Rose's shoulders. She didn't move. Mickey wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. He watched her for a while, trying to imagine what must have been going on inside her head.

"What did you …" he began, but found he couldn't finish. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Did he say anything?"

Rose nodded again.

"What'd he say?"

"He burnt up a sun just to say goodbye." She turned to look at him and said half-jokingly, half-accusingly, "You never did anything like that."

"Give me some credit, I'm only human," he retaliated in the same tone of voice. They glanced at each other and shared a brief smile before Rose fell silent again. Mickey was surprised to note that she wasn't crying – perhaps she had used up all her tears.

"I told him," she said eventually. Mickey frowned quizzically at her. "I told him I loved him," she clarified.

"You did, did you," he said. It was more of a resigned statement than a question. He'd long believed that Rose had been in love with the Doctor, but she had never actually said it out loud. He was surprised to find that he wasn't hurt by her declaration. He didn't feel betrayed in any way. Her feelings, as far as he knew, hadn't been reciprocated by the Doctor. Certainly he'd cared for her deeply – maybe even loved her in a paternal, 'best mates' kind of way – but he could never feel that strongly about one person. Oh, he knew about Sarah Jane. He knew about Reinette. He'd travelled with the Doctor long enough himself to know that, when it came to women, he was just like any other bloke. The ultimate bachelor, as it were – certainly he 'danced', but he never really settled down and he probably never would. He probably never could. Nine hundred years old, Rose has said. Mickey wasn't surprised by the Doctor's attitudes at all.

"D'you know what he said back?" Rose asked. Mickey shook his head. "He said 'Quite right too'." Mickey chuckled despite himself.

"Sounds like the Doctor," he muttered. Rose was silent. She watched the horizon for a short while, before a sudden thought occurred to her.

"How'd you get involved with Torchwood?"

"Just did," Mickey replied, taken aback slightly. "Me and Jake went to go shut down all the Cybus factories, and we just sort of ended up at Torchwood."

"How long did it take?"

"What?"

"I mean, how long have you been here?"

"Three years." Rose blinked incredulously. Mickey just shrugged.

"And in those three years, have you … I mean, with anyone … else?" she asked tentatively.

"Like who?"

"Well, you and Jake seemed pretty … close …"

"Jake?" laughed Mickey. "Nah. I know which side my bread's buttered, and it ain't _that_ side. Him and Ricky were … y'know … 'together'," (he emphasised his point with air quotes, which made Rose raise a slightly amused eyebrow) "but I told him I wasn't Ricky and I never would be. I was too hung up over y—" He stopped himself before he got any further. Choking back the words, he turned back to face the waves again – but when he felt Rose gently slip her hand into his, he smiled gratefully at her.

"If there's a Torchwood in this world," she said suddenly, "and Torchwood was set up cause of the Doctor … d'you reckon … there might be another Doctor in this world?" Her eyes shone with hope, and Mickey found he hadn't the heart to mislead her in any way. After considering his answer carefully, he tightened his grip on her hand and forced a smile on his face.

"D'you wanna come to Torchwood and find out for yourself?"

_...TBC..._


	2. scientia est potentia

A month after the Doctor had vanished for the last time, Rose was making good progress in her new life. Remembering the Doctor's words to her ("Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth" still echoed in her dreams of gold light and TARDIS noises), she took Mickey to his word and joined this world's version of Torchwood to try and get any information she could about the Doctor. She started off as a secretary in the weapons department, where Mickey had managed to make a name for himself and become head of department – she had to note the irony of Mickey being her superior – but after casually remarking to a passing techie that he was holding the gun upside-down, she was hauled in to give her 'expert' opinions on some of the other examples of alien technology they'd managed to obtain.

Of course, her knowledge was still fairly limited – she could only identify about a third of the items in storage, and she could only name the planets of origin of about half of those – but even this made her a valuable asset to Torchwood. She had never planned on becoming such a rising star in the company, but all the evidence seemed to be pointing that way, especially with Pete (she had to learn to stop calling him that – he'd insisted she call him 'Dad' now) as Head of Torchwood. If she was honest, Rose was perfectly happy where she was.

Any spare moment she had, Rose was searching the Torchwood archives trying desperately to find something – anything – that might give her a glimmer of hope. If she could just find a file, a photograph, _anything_, then she might be able to track him down. She'd nearly had a heart attack a fortnight previously, when she'd found a photograph of him taken from some CCTV footage, but she hadn't been able to trace it back any further than the last time she'd been here with him. She supposed it was the CCTV footage from their confrontation with Cyber-Lumic. Undaunted, she printed off a copy of it and kept it hidden, in a side pocket of her handbag, as her little secret. It made her feel closer to him in some way.

"Rose?" yelled an inquiring voice. Jake's, she assumed – she didn't think there were many Torchwood workers with Geordie accents.

"Yeah?" she yelled back, walking over to the doorway and peering round. She was not surprised to find Jake holding a large gun rather tentatively at arms' length. She _was_ surprised at the hundreds of thread-like wires that were starting to wind their way up Jake's arms slowly but threateningly.

"Any idea how to get this stuff off me?" he said conversationally. Rose walked over and studied the gun carefully.

"When did this start happening?" she said, peering intently down the barrel of the gun.

"About two seconds before I yelled for help."

"And which button did you press on the gun?"

"I didn't press anything. I was just cleaning it." He nodded towards a damp cloth on the floor. "I dropped that when the gun started attacking me."

"In self-defence," Rose pointed out. Jake frowned confusedly at her.

"It's alive?" he asked incredulously. Rose shook her head.

"Not as such." She walked over to a nearby sink and picked up a couple of dry paper towels. "This gun is from the planet Haustus. It's a desert planet, just sand and rocks everywhere. The people there evolved so that they wouldn't need water, and their technology was developed the same way." Rose rubbed at the gun with the paper towels and to Jake's obvious surprise the wires retracted back into the handle of the gun. "It's allergic to water." Jake gaped in amazement. "Next time, use a dry cloth," Rose advised with a slight smile as she strode out of the room and back to her desk.

Returning to her computer, Rose wiggled the mouse to get rid of the Torchwood logo screensaver and her screen was once again filled with various files and windows. Just before Jake had distracted her, she had been following a hunch she'd had about how to find the Doctor. If the Doctor had been the reason Torchwood was set up, surely there should be some information about him in the files concerning the birth of Torchwood? It had not taken her long to dig up the right file, and now her heart was racing as she scanned a transcript of the original documents about how Torchwood was created. This was what she lived for now – the thrill of the chase. For years she and the Doctor had been running here, there and everywhere, chasing the bad guys. Now it was the Doctor who was being chased. Near the end of a particularly long file, written in a very flowery way, Rose held her breath as she glimpsed a mention of a werewolf …

* * *

_  
Excerpt from Torchwood file 'Inception1879'_

… _and so, in the year of Our Lord eighteen hundred and seventy nine, the last monarch of the United Kingdom, Her Royal Highness Queen Victoria, died under tragic and unusual circumstances. Her Royal Highness had arranged to take her annual trip to Balmoral to have the Royal Jewel, the Koh-I-Noor, recut. This was in accordance of her late husband, Prince Albert's, wishes. The Royal Party was ambushed in its stay at the home of Sir Robert MacLeish, son of the late Sir Thomas MacLeish, a great friend of Prince Albert, and a wolf of monstrous size and strength was sent in an attempt to assassinate Queen Victoria herself. The wolf was a prisoner of the monks of the Glen of St Catherine, and they later confessed to the wolf being a man who changed into a wolf by the light of the moon. The attempt was thwarted by the bravery of Sir Robert, who sacrificed his life to use the Royal Jewel as part of an elaborate contraption built by Sir Thomas. The Queen, however, was determined not to let this werewolf infect her and inhabit her, as it promised it would (this information was recalled by one of the household maids, Flora, who was held captive by the monks with the rest of the staff). Instead, she recited the Lord's Prayer and took_ _her own life. _

_Thus the monarchy was dissolved, as the rest of the Royal family fled the Empire fearing similar assassination attempts. Lady Isobel, Sir Robert's widow, pledged to set up an institute to investigate the cause of this tragedy and to establish a means of protecting the Empire from other such strange occurrences. It was to be named the Torchwood Institute, after the name of the home of Lady Isobel. The then Prime Minister, Benjamin Disraeli, was appointed the United Kingdom's first President, and the legacy of Torchwood was born._

* * *

"So'd you find anything?" Mickey asked later, placing half a shandy in front of Rose and settling down on the rickety pub chair next to her with his own pint of lager. Rose stared sullenly at her drink for a few moments before reaching over, grabbing Mickey's drink and gulping it down quickly with a grimace. Mickey blinked.

"Bad news, then?"

"Bad enough to make me want something stronger than lager. Gimme a shot."

"Rose …" began Mickey tentatively, but the rest of his sentence was lost under Rose's strong glare. Mickey knew that glare well. That glare said 'I'm going to get drunk and you're not going to stop me'. Sighing inwardly, he sidled back over to the bar and leaned on the counter.

"Two vodkas, please," he asked the barmaid. Hell, if Rose was going to get drunk, he may as well join her.

Three hours and several shots later, Rose had abandoned her stony looks and was instead giggling inanely. Mickey laughed along with her without quite knowing why, feeling it was better to let her forget whatever bad news she'd found that day.

"Arthur!" she exclaimed drunkenly between giggles. "I still can't believe he called a horse _Arthur_!" She rested her head on the table and banged it with her fist, her shoulders shaking with mirth. "I mean, normally horses have really _stupid_ names, like A Spoonful Of Sugar, or … I dunno … Tea For Two … or something." She hiccoughed loudly, which made her giggle even more. "But not _Arthur_!"

"I take it you're talkin' about the Doctor, yeah?" Mickey slurred. Rose nodded, holding onto the table for support in case she fell off her chair. She lapsed into a drunken, hiccoughing silence for a few moments as Mickey downed another shot.

"Oi, Mickey …" she said suddenly. "Y'know how, in this world, when you an' me an' the Doctor first came here?"

"Yeah."

"And I found out I didn't exist here? I was never born or nothing?"

"Yeah."

"D'you know what I found today?"

"What?"

"The Doctor's the same." She giggled again, and this time Mickey didn't join in. "The Doctor doesn't exist in this world, Mickey. He's never coming back." Her giggles dissolved into tiny, heartbroken sobs, and Mickey was at her side in a flash, putting an arm round her shoulders and holding her tightly.

"S'ok, babes," he muttered. "I know how you feel."

"No, you don't," Rose said thickly, her head buried in his T-shirt. It was times like this Rose could pretend he wasn't Mickey at all, but the Doctor. They smelled the same, a comforting mix of Lynx and some smell that boys just seemed to have. Eau de Boy. Whatever it was, it made her feel safe.

"Believe me, babes, I do." Rose sniffed and looked up at him, frowning at him slightly. She saw a deep, intense sadness in his eyes and she was reminded forcefully of the Doctor. She didn't like it at all.

"Mickey, you … you didn't … _know_ … about the Doctor not being here, did you?" she said accusingly. Mickey looked away. "Tell me you didn't." He couldn't meet her eye and Rose stiffened slightly in his arms. "Mickey, tell me you didn't know the Doctor didn't exist here," she pleaded, desperation etched in her face and her voice.

"I'm sorry, Rose," he muttered, pulling his arm away from her. He stood up shakily and pulled his jacket on slowly.

"No," said Rose, shaking her head unbelievingly, "because if you _knew_, you'd've _told_ me, Mickey, you would've _told_ me, Mickey, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you? Mickey, wouldn't you have told me?" Tears started to fall again but she ignored them, concentrating instead on Mickey's crestfallen face and hunched shoulder. She followed him out of the pub, her voice becoming louder and shriller as she begged and pleaded him to answer her. "Mickey, you'd've _told_ me! Mickey! Mickey, why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to be the one who told you," he muttered mutinously as he strode down the dark street. "You'd've killed me." Rose stopped dead in her tracks and sobered up immediately.

"What makes you think that?" she asked incredulously.

"You love him," he replied bluntly, still walking away.

"What's your point?" Rose yelled at his retreating back. Mickey stopped, and for a moment Rose wondered if she'd gone too far. When he turned around to face her, she knew for a fact that she had.

"My _point_?" he spat bitterly. "My point, Rose, is that you can't bear to be without your precious Doctor. You can't stand the fact that he's gone and he's never coming back. That's why you keep that photo in your handbag, isn't it?" Off Rose's look, Mickey chuckled darkly. "Yeah, I know about that. An' you know what? That's what you can't stand the most. You can't stand the fact that I know stuff about the Doctor that you don't. You can't stand the fact that I was right. An' now you're just gonna go back home and feel sorry for yourself 'cause you're still here with me instead of savin' the universe with _him_." He was shouting now, screaming at Rose with tears of his own rolling down his cheeks, but he didn't care. "You hate me cause I'm not him, don't you? Well, guess what – I'm not him. I'm not him an' I never will be."

"Yeah, I know that, you idiot –"Rose began, and wished she hadn't. She was cut off by a harsh laugh from Mickey, who was slowly walking over towards her now.

"That's right," he said. "That's what I am. I'm Mickey the Idiot. Mickey the Idiot, who fell in love with Rose Tyler, Defender of the Earth, and hasn't been able to let go of her. Mickey the Idiot, that's me! I was born an idiot, I'll die an idiot, and I'll always be an idiot because I still love you. That's why I'm an idiot, Rose. Not because of all the stupid stuff I've done. Not because I broke Jake's heart when I told him I couldn't replace Ricky. Not because I didn't tell you about the Doctor. I'm an idiot because, despite everything you've put me through, all the stuff you've thrown at me, using me and tossing me aside … I still love you. I love you and I always will." They were almost nose to nose now, Mickey looking at Rose with a mixture of pity and anger on his face and Rose just staring blankly. Both of them were crying, and neither of them cared. "_That's_ why I'm an idiot, Rose." After a very pregnant pause, Rose nodded grimly.

"That's why you did it, isn't it?" she asked. "You didn't tell me because you wanted the upper hand. You knew something I didn't, and it made you feel big and powerful. Good old Mickey with his big alien guns, running around saving the world. Mickey Smith, from zero to hero. You enjoy being my boss, don't you? You just love the fact that you get to tell me what to do, not the other way around. I bet you get a kick out of it, don't you? It turns you on that you get to order me about. It makes you all hot under the collar, doesn't it Mickey? Knowing that you can tell me to do something and I'll do it, no questions asked –"

And that was when Mickey kissed her.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, by any standards. On the contrary, it was a harsh, bruising kiss that would have knocked Rose off her feet if he hadn't been gripping onto her upper arms as if she were an escaping prisoner. It was a kiss that claimed her, that made her aware she was being shut up by force. If Mickey had been a more violent man, he would have slapped her across the face to make her listen to him. Rose understood that this was how Mickey's mind worked now. Well, two could play at that game.

Mickey had expected Rose to be shocked by his kiss. He hadn't expected her to kiss back. She responded with a force to rival his own, gripping his head in her hands and digging the nails into his scalp. When she bit on his lip, Mickey gripped her arms tighter before pushing her away so hard she stumbled and nearly fell over. There was a heat and passion in her eyes, a fire that burned in her. He wasn't quite sure what was fuelling it.

"I know I'm not him," Mickey began, panting slightly. "But nobody knows what you've been through better than me. You know you'll always be able to talk to me about stuff. About the Doctor, the TARDIS, the different planets, all that stuff. No-one understands better than me." He licked his lips nervously, feeling the line where Rose's teeth had made their mark. There were no blood, but he knew there could have been if Rose had been any angrier. "I know I don't deserve a second chance, or even a third chance … but we could be happy together. Even if you don't love me like you love him, that's fine. I don't care, Rose. I just want to make you happy."

"It's me who doesn't deserve a second chance," Rose said weakly, shivering slightly in the cold air. She studied Mickey's face for a second before staring resolutely at him. She'd made up her mind. She walked over to Mickey and slipped her hand in his, interlocking their fingers just like she used to do with the Doctor. New New Doctor, he'd once said. Well, this was New New Rose. No more pining, no more hoping, no more wishing, no more wanting. She had a future and she was determined to make the best of it. She and Mickey walked back to her house silently as the Doctor's words echoed in her mind.

_Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose. Have a fantastic life._

_…TBC…_


	3. dux femina facti

A year after the Doctor had vanished for the last time, Rose was back at Dårlig Ulv Stranden, with Mickey, Jackie, Pete and baby Daisy in tow. Daisy was now six months old, and it had taken nearly as long for Jackie and Pete to name her. After many unhelpful suggestions from Mickey, which included 'Kitchen' and 'Bathroom' ("That way she'll grow up with a definite career," he'd pointed out, before Jackie hit him over the head and insisted no daughter of hers would grow up to be builder), they had finally continued on the flower theme and had settled on Daisy. Rose thought it suited her very well.

She wasn't entirely sure why she'd come back here after so long. Perhaps that tiny spark of hope left deep inside her had persuaded her that, after a year, the Doctor might have found another way back, a way to finish his goodbye to her. The rational part of her brain told her that wasn't the case, that he would never be coming back, but still … that tiny little voice in her head begged her to stay. _Just a bit longer,_ it said. _Just a few more minutes._

Mickey had said nothing when she'd asked to go back. He'd merely nodded and followed her wordlessly, still the proud man he always was. Jackie had, of course, spent most of the journey complaining. What if Daisy catches a cold? How do you know he'll turn up again? Why _Norway_, of all places? Why don't you just get over him and settle down with Mickey? Pete had driven them there again, a family on a pilgrimage. His only concern was how Torchwood would cope with both its Head and Deputy Head gone for the week. Rose had just smiled at him, a smile that she had often used on Jackie (and occasionally the Doctor) when she wanted to shut them up without explaining anything, and Pete had sighed and gone off to pack.

_Just a few more minutes. Just a little bit longer. _

Rose got out her Super Phone and stared at the screen. The nearby Norwegian service provider had picked up her phone and was informing her, in Norwegian, of all the special offers she could get in this area. She wasn't bothered about that. She wanted to find out how much signal she could get here, on this desolate beach. The screen told her there was full signal here. She pressed a button on the speed dial and tried to call the Doctor. One last time, she told herself. If she couldn't reach him here, in Bad Wolf Bay, she knew he was gone.

_Just a little while longer. Just another minute._

She took a deep, steadying breath and pressed the button.

Calling TARDIS 

She held the phone up to her ear and waited.

One ring.

He was probably busy.

Three rings.

He was fixing the TARDIS and couldn't hear the phone.

Seven rings.

He was reading a book in the Library, which she knew he'd soundproofed years ago.

Twelve rings.

He was asleep in his bedroom, miles away from the phone in the Console Room

Fifteen rings.

He wasn't in the TARDIS. He was out saving the world somewhere.

"_The person you are calling is unavailable. Please try again later."_

Rose switched her phone off and walked back over to Mickey. Jackie and Pete had insisted on staying in the hotel, not wanting to intrude on Rose's privacy. Mickey had tagged along as Mickey always did, and right then Rose found that she didn't mind so much. It had been an odd few months after Mickey had asked her for another go at their relationship – Rose felt that she could never truly love him again as she had done before – but they were both working hard and were slowly regaining their playful intimacy they had once shared. They still had not yet rekindled their physical relationship together, but Mickey had promised Rose he would wait, and that made Rose love him just a little bit more.

She had initially been nervous about restarting a relationship with Mickey. Mickey had been nice, but the Doctor had shown her other worlds, other galaxies, other universes. Mickey could never compare. Mickey would always be that little bit more boring than the Doctor. Then again, the other offers she'd had had been less than thrilling.

"_D'you fancy a drink at the pub after work?"_

"_How about a pizza? Friday night?"_

"_Can I buy you lunch?"_

Mickey understood. Mickey knew she needed more than that. He took her skydiving when Rose recalled an adventure that had seen her and the Doctor jumping off a cliff onto the alien ground below, bouncing off the elastic floor and running away without a scratch. He took her to an Abba tribute concert when she said how the Doctor had taken her to see them live in 1979. He took her paintballing when she remembered how the Doctor had complained about guns, yet seemed perfectly happy to play shoot-em-ups on Mickey's games console.

And each time Mickey had done something to make her feel a little closer to the Doctor, Rose had felt a little tiny bit closer to him. She made the effort to see Mickey in the same light she had once seen the Doctor in, but it was no good. Mickey would always be safe. She didn't have to worry about Mickey in the way she'd had to worry about the Doctor. Mickey was as good as she was going to get now.

"Let's go," she said dully as she took his hand in hers and led him back to the seaside hotel they were staying in.

* * *

"Look, I've told you a thousand times before!" Rose yelled down the telephone, "Egerootian electronics are not compatible with Zipheenish technology!" She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration as she listened to the whining apology coming from the person on the end of the line. "I don't CARE what Jason-From-Mechanics said! I'M the boss here and I'M the one who says they're not compatible!" Slamming the handset back in its cradle, she leaned backwards in her chair and arched her back to stretch it. No sooner had she got up to walk to the kitchenette in her office than the intercom buzzed loudly at her. Rolling her eyes, she leaned over her desk and pressed the button.

"Yes?" she snapped irritably.

"There's a journalist here to see you," her secretary Angela drawled in a bored voice. "Someone from The Times. Scheduled an interview for half two a couple of weeks ago."

"What's her name?"

"Somebody Sullivan. Didn't catch the first name."

"Alright, send her in," Rose sighed, continuing over to her kettle. She filled it up to make enough tea for two people, and didn't look up from her bustling about when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said absently. The door opened and Somebody Sullivan came in.

"Can I offer you a cup of tea?" Rose asked, searching around for the tea bags.

"Thanks," said a breathy voice. "Milk, one sugar."

Rose stiffened immediately. She recognised that voice from her old life, but … surely it couldn't be … it just couldn't. She turned around slowly, trying to keep her face impassive as she turned around to face a woman she thought she'd never see again.

Sarah Jane Smith.

"Sarah Jane Sullivan," she said, in that cheerful voice Rose had come to know all those adventure ago. She held out her hand for Rose to shake. "I've come to interview you for an article in the Times." Rose blinked.

"Sarah Jane … Sullivan?" she clarified, not quite sure if she'd heard correctly.

"That's right," Sarah Jane confirmed, smiling once again. Her smile faltered as Rose kept on staring oddly at her. "Er … are you alright?" Rose blinked again and shook her head slightly, smiling widely and genuinely.

"I'm fine," she said. She finally took Sarah Jane's outstretched hand and shook it politely. "You just … you look like someone I once knew." Sarah Jane just smiled.

"Please, take a seat," Rose said, turning her attention once more to the tea. "Milk and one sugar, yeah?"

"Yes, that's right," she said, settling herself down in the comfortable chair opposite the desk and looking around. Clearly, here was a woman who had a past. Rose Tyler's office was dotted with various odd-looking artefacts, juxtaposed with a desk full of what she assumed to be family photographs. In a corner behind Rose's desk, Sarah Jane noticed an odd-looking circular object behind a glass casing.

"Have a guess what it is," Rose said from behind her. Sarah Jane started and turned around to look up at her. Rose offered her a mug of tea, smiling, before crossing over to behind her desk.

"No idea," she said.

"It's the mileometer from the Roswell spaceship," said Rose proudly. "Cost me a quarter of a million."

"I'm impressed," Sarah Jane said, and she sounded it too. She gave a small, slightly sad smile. "I had a friend who would have loved to have seen that," she said. "He was into all sorts of things." Rose gave her a searching look.

"What was his name?"

"Do you know," chuckled Sarah Jane, "I don't think I ever knew his name. He used to call himself John Smith whenever he needed to. He was a …" She trailed off as she tried to come up with the right word to describe him. "He was a very uncommon man. He was some sort of doctor, I think. I never found out what he was a doctor of, though."

"Life, probably," Rose said thoughtfully. "I had a friend like that. He was the most brilliant man in the whole world. He was a doctor too. Used to call himself John Smith as well." She took a sip of her tea. "He's dead now."

"I'm so sorry," Sarah Jane said. She gave a tiny sigh and looked out of the office window. "My friend's dead too, I think. I've not seen or spoken to him in years." Rose smiled comfortingly at Sarah Jane, recalling the Sarah Jane in her old life and the pain she had felt radiating off her after her brief reunion with the Doctor. Rose had long since guessed that there had been other versions of the Doctor in this world – he'd explained to her all about his regenerations and past lives before – and she'd assumed that the Doctor in this world must have been killed in the Time War. There was no evidence of either of the Doctors she'd known, and only brief, fleeting examples of other previous Doctors – like Sarah Jane's Doctor.

"So where d'you want to start with this interview?" Rose said, bringing the conversation back to its original topic. Sarah Jane looked thoughtful.

"Well, if it's alright with you," she said, "I thought I'd get a little bit of background information first." She delved into her handbag and pulled out a dictaphone, a notepad and a pen, setting them down on the desk in front of her neatly. "Then I'd like to talk about your work here at Torchwood, how you've helped to turn it around and make it into the institution it is today."

"Fair enough," Rose said. "Fire away."

The interview lasted twenty minutes before Rose was interrupted by the intercom again. Her life story so far (a fake one the Tylers had helped her concoct so as not to arouse too much suspicion – they agreed that, if anyone should ask, there had been a mix-up at the hospital she'd been born in and had been raised by another family for the first nineteen years of her life. Technically, this was half-true, but Pete's influence had meant he had been able to procure documents confirming this), as well as the beginning of her meteoric rise in the Torchwood Institute had been covered before Angela buzzed in.

"Sorry to interrupt, Miss Tyler," she drawled (Rose doubted she was anything but sorry), "but there's some sort of emergency going on downstairs. Apparently some alien's turned up out of the blue and he's been taken for questioning. Mr Tyler has requested you join him and Mr Smith immediately."

"Mr Smith?" said Sarah Jane enquiringly.

"Mickey Smith," Rose hastily clarified. "My … boyfriend." Sarah Jane nodded. "Look, I'm sorry about this," she added apologetically, "but you know what it's like when these things happen."

"No, it's fine," Sarah Jane said understandingly. "Life with aliens is full of interruptions." Rose chuckled and nodded. She drained the last of her tea and stood up.

"You're welcome to wait here, if you like," she told Sarah Jane. "I shouldn't be more than about five minutes."

"Actually," Sarah Jane said, rather hopefully, "would you mind awfully if I accompanied you?" She smiled apologetically at Rose. "I don't often get a chance to do a breaking story. It would make my day." Rose smiled back. She hadn't expected anything less from a former companion of the Doctor. Her Doctor might not exist any more, but Sarah Jane's Doctor had been very real, and Rose knew she was capable of handling aliens. The boasting cat-fight they'd had so long ago still rang in Rose's ears.

"_I had no problem with space stuff. I saw things you wouldn't believe!"  
_"_Try me."  
_"_Mummies."  
_"_I've met ghosts."  
_"_Robots. Lots of robots."  
_"_Slitheen. In Downing Street."  
_"_Daleks."  
_"_Met the Emperor."  
_"_Anti-matter monsters."  
_"_Gas mask zombies!"  
_"_Real living dinosaurs!"  
_"_Real living werewolf!"  
_"_THE Loch Ness Monster!"  
_"… _seriously?"_

"Course you can come," Rose said kindly. "Just be careful. I don't want to be held responsible if you get hurt." Sarah Jane nodded and swept out of the room behind Rose. She smiled to herself. Sharing a subdued but obviously enthusiastic glance with Rose, she knew that things were going to get very exciting, very quickly.

…_TBC…_


	4. noscitur a sociis

_**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, and SPECIAL thanks go to Hobbit-eyes for practically writing this chapter for me. She did all the Evil Genius stuff. Well, it takes one to know one._

* * *

"Ok," said Rose, as she followed the young man leading them down the corridor. "Gimme the low-down."

"I'm afraid we don't know much," the young man – Rose remembered that he was called Alonso, because it made her think momentarily how hilarious the Doctor would have found that – admitted apologetically. "All we know is his general appearance. At first we thought he was just a bit of an oddball, but we did some medical scans and … well … you'd best see for yourself."

"What does he look like?"

"Tall, short-ish hair, reasonably large nose and ears," said Alonso. "Quite broad-shouldered too. And he's dressed like he's going to a fancy dress party or something, all dinner jackets and cravats. We made him turn out his pockets. Mr Smith said he was half expecting him to have a pipe and slippers in there."

"Mickey's seen him?" Rose asked as they rounded a corner. Sarah Jane was still listening intently as Alonso nodded.

"Mr Smith was one of the first on the scene. He's with the man now in Interrogation Room 6 –"

"Handling the situation well, I bet," Rose said jokingly, biting back a small smile at the thought of Mickey trying to interrogate someone.

"– but we thought that, with your background experience, you'd have a better idea of how to communicate with him," continued Alonso, "seeing as you've met more extraterrestrials than Steven Spielberg."

"You are absolutely sure this man is an alien?" Sarah Jane asked. "He's not just a homeless man?"

"Or a Trekkie?" Rose interjected, remembering the embarrassing incident of last month when Torchwood thought they'd arrested their first Vulcan, but it had actually turned out to be an inebriated Star Trek fan on his way home from a convention.

"We're sure," Alonso said excitedly. "Like I told you, we've run some tests and – sorry, who's this?" he suddenly asked, having noticed Sarah Jane for the first time. Rose glanced at her before firmly addressing Alonso.

"Sarah Jane. She's with me," she said pointedly. Alonso nodded and didn't press the matter any further. "What were you saying?" Rose pressed on.

"Well, we picked him up in a park not too far from here," he said, quickening his pace when he noticed Rose's agitation. "We got a telephone call about a man hanging around and looking suspicious. At first we thought it was nothing, but then the lady who phoned the police mentioned something about a blue police box nearby. Anyway, we intercepted the call from there, found the guy, brought him in and did the medical scans. Now, what's really interesting is –"

But he stopped in mid-sentence for the second time in as many minutes when he noticed that neither Rose nor Sarah Jane were following him any more. Rose was staring blankly ahead, her breathing ragged. Sarah Jane was frowning questioningly at Alonso.

"Did … did you say … a blue police box?" Sarah Jane asked. Rose seemed dumbfounded. Alonso nodded curtly.

_"It's a telephone box. From the 1950's. It's a disguise."_

"And, like I was saying, what's really interesting is the scan we did of his body. It turns out he's got two hearts –"

Alonso suddenly found himself flying through the air and landing with a large thump on the opposite side of the corridor. Shaking his head, he realised that, in her rush to get past him, Rose had literally knocked him off his feet. Acknowledging the hurried apology from Sarah Jane, Alonso picked himself up, shook his head and followed them as they sprinted down the corridor towards the interrogation rooms.

Rose didn't notice the sharp, stabbing pain of a stitch in her side, nor did she pay any attention to the fact that she was running barefoot, having kicked off her shoes about ten seconds previously. She ignored Sarah Jane's shouts and protests, and instead concentrated on fanning the flames of hope that had been burning steadily dimmer these past few months. With each thud of her foot on the floor, she heard her own voice echoing in her head.

_can't be can't be can't be can't be …_

Skidding to a halt outside Interrogation Room 6, Rose took a second to regain her composure and open the door to the adjoining room, where she would be able to see this alien for herself. This alien … this alien …

It couldn't be, she kept telling herself. She walked in and almost fainted at the sight that greeted her through the two-way mirror.

It was.

It was him.

And he was looking right at her.

"Is … is that your Doctor?" she heard Sarah Jane ask in a small, faraway-sounding voice. Rose blinked. The hair was different – longer, with a dandy-looking side parting – and the leather jacket was gone in favour of a 1930's style evening suit, complete, like Alonso had said, with cravat and pin … but it was definitely the Doctor. Her Doctor. The same nose, the same ears, the same eyes that burned with an icy blue fire. This wasn't just the Doctor – this was the old Doctor. The Doctor she'd met first. The Doctor she'd fallen in love with first …

"It is," she heard herself reply. She cleared her throat. "It was. But he … he changed." She took a deep, steadying breath and licked her dry lips. Her heart was racing so much she thought the man – the Doctor – might be able to hear it from where she was standing. Pete came up behind her and put a paternal hand on her shoulder. He'd watched her burst in from a chair in the corner of the room, where he'd been monitoring the video and audio feeds from the interrogation room, but seeing Rose so obviously shocked had disconcerted him.

"You alright?" he asked gently, looking at her concernedly. Rose didn't reply. She just stared at the man – at the Doctor – sitting at the table. He was still staring unblinkingly at her, as if he could see her through the glass. No, not _at_ her, she reminded herself – he wouldn't be able to see anything through the mirror. That was impossible.

_"You have to tell me what's going on!"  
"No I don't."_

He, contrary to her expression of disbelief and shock, seemed nonplussed to the extreme. His expression was nonchalant bordering on bored. This unsettled Rose deeply. Her Doctor had never been bored of anything in his life. Something wasn't right here. She watched as Mickey paced up and down in front of the table at which the Doctor was seated, growing increasingly frustrated by his lack of response.

"For the eighteenth time," growled Mickey threateningly, "wh—"

"Seventeenth." Mickey blinked.

"What?"

"It's the seventeenth time you're about to ask me that question." He still hadn't blinked nor taken his eyes off Rose, but she was no longer concerned by this – she was more shocked to hear his voice. The strong Northern accent was gone, replaced with a very upper class, Received Pronunciation dialect that suited his outfit but didn't gel with Rose at all.

"All right," Mickey sighed exasperatedly, "for the _seventeenth_ time … where do you come from?"

The man rolled his eyes as if he had been practising all his life – Rose could practically taste the disdain radiating from this simple facial gesture, and a perfectly timed and only slightly melodramatic sigh highlighted the man's attitude of blatant superiority over Mickey. "And for the seventeenth time," the man said calmly, "why should I tell you? It's not as if you'd know where it is. And even if you did know, you'd have no way of reaching it. Your stupid little ape minds aren't sufficiently evolved enough. Frankly, trying to teach interstellar geography to creatures with sub-par intelligence wearies me."

_"I did it again. I picked another stupid ape."_

It must be him, Rose thought suddenly. No-one but the Doctor insults Mickey like that …

And on that, she pushed her way past Pete, past Sarah Jane, past a surprised-looking security guard and into the interrogation room, finally making the man – and Mickey – blink at her in a somewhat surprised manner.

"Rose," Mickey muttered under his breath, annoyed at the interruption, "I'm on a roll here –"

Ignoring him, Rose leaned over the table and stared at the man sitting calmly in the chair opposite. She couldn't take her eyes off him. She committed every part of him to memory, burning his image in her mind. The nose. The eyes. The mole on his cheek. The wrinkles on his forehead. The ears. There was no mistaking him now. No-one else in the entire universe had ears like that.

"Are …" she began. She scarcely dared to ask the question in case it was the wrong one. She nearly chickened out and ran away, but she had to know. Taking another deep breath, she steeled herself and tried again. "Are you … is … is that you, Doctor?"

The man looked at her. For what seemed to Rose like an eternity, he just looked at her. It was the most thorough examination she'd ever undergone in her life. He looked her slowly up and down, judging her, before arching an eyebrow and replying delicately, "Doctor … who?"

_"Just 'the Doctor'."_

"Don't play games," Rose hissed. "Is it you? Are you the Doctor?" The man continued to watch Rose with his eyebrow raised, before leaning backwards in the chair and settling his face into a neutral, unreadable expression.

"I have my moments," he said, giving a ghost of a smile. But it wasn't the sort of smile that Rose had known and loved. _Her_ Doctor had grinned maniacally at her, beaming and happy, or he smiled gently and thoughtfully without being condescending in any way. Her Doctor's smiles were spontaneous and fresh, and had made her feel safe and protected. _This_ man's smiles were something else entirely. This smile was unctuous, guarded and controlled, giving nothing away. This smile didn't melt the ice in his eyes.

This smile reminded her of crocodiles.

"Who are you, then?" she asked, her voice starting to shake slightly.

"Just a man, passing through," he replied, continuing to smile. "But border control can be so tedious –"

"Are you a Time Lord?" she demanded forcefully.

That did it. The smile fell from his face immediately. He narrowed his eyes dangerously and frowned slightly. Rose sensed Mickey stiffen behind her, as if preparing to strike. The man leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers and resting his chin lightly on his hands.

"Now," he began quietly and questioningly, "where would a little girl like you learn something like that?"

Rose suddenly felt distinctly uneasy. There was a strange swooping feeling in the vicinity of her stomach which reminded her of seasickness. "Well?" she asked again. "Are you?"

The man considered her for a long time, his glare still dangerous and threatening. He fixed Rose with another unblinking stare, and Rose stared back defiantly, almost daring him to retaliate. After a while, the man leaned backwards and rested his interlocked hands in his lap.

"In a manner of speaking," he said quietly, every syllable carefully considered. "I'm a cut above your 'Doctor', though. There's a name I thought I'd never hear again." His smile slid greasily back into place, as if he were granting her an honour. "You may call me the Master."

_"Is that supposed to sound impressive?"  
"Sort of."_

"Do you know the Doctor, then?" Rose asked, trying and failing to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

"Do you?" the man – the Master – asked, by way of a reply.

"I … _did_," said Rose quietly, emphasising her words carefully. She eyed the Master nervously as she saw a flicker of amusement cross his face. "Do you?" she repeated.

"_'Did'_," said the Master mockingly. "Past tense. That always seemed to me to have a final tone to it. Almost funereal, you might say …"

"What do you mean?"

Clearly, the Master was very intrigued by Rose. Here was a girl who couldn't have been much older than about 23 or 24 years old, with a knowledge way beyond not only her own years, but the years of her entire planet. He swept a disapproving look over her, and Rose got the impression that she was being judged as to whether or not she was worthy of such information.

_"Do you believe me?"  
"No."  
"But you're still listening."_

"I knew the Doctor," he said eventually, cutting through the thick silence, an ironic smile curving up one corner of his mouth. "_Knew_. Past tense again." The smile grew. "Curse that perfect tense." The smile dropped. "The question of knowing the Doctor now is one that requires careful consideration."

"Do you know him or don't you?" Mickey yelled, just as Rose opened her mouth to say the same thing. Rose stared in awe and disbelief at Mickey. She'd not seen him this angry, this forceful, for years. Not since the events at Cardiff Bay so long ago. He'd been angry with Rose then, angry with her for leaving him and hurting him. Now, it seemed, he was angry because he could see that this … _Master_ … was hurting Rose. And oh, he was hurting her. The taunting, the teasing, the ridicule, the derision … so very familiar, and yet so very foreign. So Doctor, yet so not.

The Master sighed wearily and resettled himself in the chair. It was clear he was only doing it for show – it wasn't to show his discomfort, but his disdain at the situation. It was several seconds before he deigned to open his mouth again.

"I _knew_ the Doctor," he said. "In some sense, I still do. But I'll never see him again. And neither will you."

"And why's that?" Rose demanded forcefully. The Master blinked, looking slightly taken aback by his question. His eyes flicked over to Mickey's confused expression and swept over the two-way mirror before settling back on Rose.

"Because he's dead, my dear," he said simply. "Why else?"

_"That's not supposed to happen …"_

_…TBC…_


	5. ut fata trahunt

_**A/N:** Let it be known throughout the universe that Hobbit-eyes is currently applying for Headteacher at the School for Evil Geniuses. She must be praised! Oh, and thanks. For, y'know, being evil and genius and all.I know I really should write eerything myself, but her stuff is just TOO GOOD to ignore. And she knows I love her. So it's all good. mwah Love you!_

* * *

Mickey was amazed that Rose was still conscious, let alone upright. After that revelation, he'd half-expected her to collapse from the shock, but no – Rose stayed cool, calm and collected, not wanting to lose face. She had a reputation to uphold, and she was determined not to let her dignity fall away. Nevertheless, there was a considerably long silence in the room after the Master had dropped his bombshell, a silence during which Rose had merely stared unblinkingly at the Master, who gazed unflinchingly back.

_He can't be dead. He can't be. He's lying._

As Rose tried to process the information, her brain coming up with obstacles at every hurdle, the Master seized his opportunity and stood up for the first time in his interrogation – a slow, languid movement that made him look like a newly-crowned monarch, rising from his throne to go and greet the commoners. From his full, rather impressive height (Rose had forgotten how tall he was) he looked down at her with narrowed eyes.

"Now," he said quietly. "Enough about the Doctor and I. I want to know about you." He leaned in closer to Rose and lowered his voice. "Who are you? How do you know about the Doctor and the Time Lords?" His voice dripped with a sugary sweetness that was supposed to entice Rose, but she instead was reminded of a lingering toothache caused by too much sugar. She did not trust this man at all, and she did not believe a word he said.

"What do you mean, he's dead?" she blurted out, unable to stop herself. The Master straightened up.

"I mean, he's dead," he said simply, smiling. Rose flinched – there was a vindictive pleasure in this smile, a morbid humour that he knew would unsettle her. "Dead. You know, dead?"

"Dead?" she repeated dumbly.

"Clearly, you are not as intelligent as you first appeared," he said in clipped tones. "Do you need me to spell it out? Dead. Adjective. Meaning 'not alive'. Deceased. Departed. Perished. Passed away. Extinct. In the words of the immortal Monty Python lads, he is no more. He has ceased to be. He has expired and gone –"

"Yeah, I know what dead means," she snapped, stopping him mid-flow. The Master seemed rather perturbed by that. "I'm just saying … he can't be dead. Cause he's a Time Lord. They have this thing … regenerating … he can do that when he dies."

"Normally, this is the case," the Master said, narrowing his eyes dangerously. This girl knew far more than she was supposed to. He would have to tread carefully. "There are, however, certain occasions when a Time Lord can be killed outright. One of these instances is when a Time Lord is hit by a Dalek energy beam."

Rose's face fell. After all that travelling, all that danger, all those times he faced down the Daleks … it would have to be a Dalek that had killed him in this world, wouldn't it?

"He … he was killed by a Dalek?"

"Oh, no," the Master said dismissively. "The Doctor was far too careful to do that."

"Then what –"

"The Dalek energy beam killed _me_, my dear," he said. "The Doctor was supposed to transport my remains back to Gallifrey, when I decided I … wasn't quite through with life." He smiled that reptilian smile again and Rose clenched her fists.

"So … that Daleks didn't kill him?" she clarified. "They killed you?"

"Correct."

"So if the Daleks didn't kill him …"

"No, the Daleks didn't kill him." The Master slowly sat back down, never breaking eye contact with Rose. His vindictive smile grew wider. "I did."

For the first time since she'd set eyes on this … this impostor, this traitor to the Doctor … for the first time, Rose felt her legs buckle beneath her. Holding onto the table for support, she edged over to the empty chair next to Mickey's and sat down abruptly. The Master watched as the colour drained from her face, leaving her skin an ashen grey colour that made her look tired and wan. Rose stared at the table for a few moments, thoughts of the Doctor running through her head.

"_This is who I am, right here, right now, all right? All that counts is here and now, and this is me!"_

Memories of her adventures with him all clamoured for her attention, jostling in her mind to push themselves to the fore.

"_Your wish is my command. But be careful what you wish for."_

For so long, she had held on to the tiny spark of hope that there was another Doctor in this universe. For so long, she had waited for the crucial phrases from Torchwood – 'two hearts'. 'blue police box'. 'alone'.

_"I'm a Time Lord. I'm the last of the Time Lords. I'm left travelling on my own 'cause there's no-one else."  
__"There's me."_

Now her hope had finally been extinguished. With no way of reaching her Doctor back in her universe, and the Doctor in this world dead, Rose had nothing.

Mickey put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and she didn't even think of shrugging him off. He drew her in close for a hug, and Rose found she did not mind the close physical contact. It did exactly what it was supposed to – comforted her. She was glad of it. It helped her not to think about what the Master had just said.

"**He's dead, my dear … the Daleks didn't kill him. I did."**

Her head snapped up and she glared fiercely at the Master, who visibly recoiled. Mickey thought he saw a flicker of fear cross his face, but he must have been mistaken – the bored, disdainful look was back, although his eyes betrayed the discomfort he felt at the situation. He didn't like what he saw in Rose's eyes.

"How?" Rose demanded, her voice shaking with emotion. "And why?"

He raised an eyebrow again. "I'm getting bored," he announced. "And a bit peckish, actually. You don't have any bananas, do you? Bananas are good."

"She asked you a question," said Mickey dangerously.

"Two, actually," pointed out the Master smugly. Mickey scowled at him.

"Whatever. You don't seem to understand what's going on here. You think you've got ultimate power and superiority over us, because you've got your TARDIS. Even the Doctor got smug sometimes too. But your TARDIS isn't here now. We've got it. In this room, Rose is in charge. So you answer her."

The Master looked sideways at Mickey. His eyes then slid back to Rose, as though he'd just worked something out. "You were one of his companions, weren't you?" he said slowly. When Rose didn't answer, he went on almost under his breath. "But… that's impossible. Well," he said, a smile slowly returning, "He always did like impossible …"

"Look," said Rose, suddenly getting to her feet, "I've had about enough of this. You've got two choices – either you tell me what happened to the Doctor, or I cause you a lot of pain. Make me wait long enough, and it'll be both."

"You really think you could?" he said. He chuckled sardonically and swept a supercilious glance over Rose. "You?"

"Yeah," said Rose quietly. "Me." The Master's smile dropped immediately. "You're right," she continued. "I was a companion. And I met the Emperor of the Daleks. And I killed him, and his army. You were taken out by one measly little Dalek – what do you think I'M going to do to you?"

"My dear," began the Master, trying his best to sound as bored as possible under the circumstances despite the growing anxiety he felt about Rose, "exposition can be _so_ tedious –"

"Just tell me," she snapped, quelling the Master with a ferocious gaze. He noted, with some trepidation, that despite the wild and wretched emotion in her voice, her hands were quite steady. Clearly she was used to such situations. She might be of use to him after all.

"Very well," he said wearily, leaning backwards in a show of arrogant nonchalance. "The Doctor and I, you may or may not be aware, were good friends, once upon a time. We went to school together. Unfortunately, he had somewhat unorthodox ideas on Time Lord behaviour … and as such, he absconded from Gallifrey without so much as a by-your-leave, piloting a stolen TARDIS throughout the universe. Every so often, our paths would cross. He would see my ingenious plans for order and control as 'twisted and evil'," (here the Master chose to use air quotes – an incongruous gesture even by his standards – and rolled his eyes again, spelling out to Rose and Mickey that he clearly thought his plans were anything _but_ twisted and evil) "and he would often succeed in thwarting my attempts to out-live every other Time Lord in existence. I had conceived ways of prolonging life by inventing more regenerations, and other such ideas. He was a fool to stop me." His face twisted into a resentful scowl. "Still, I admired him for what he had done. He was a genius himself, albeit a very unfocussed one. However, there came the inevitable point when I could live no longer. In my thirteenth life, I was tried by the High Court of Skaro and sentenced to death.

"As my last request, I asked the Doctor if he would transport my remains back to Gallifrey. Foolish and misguided man that he was, he agreed to my request." The Master grinned widely, the cat who'd got the cream. "My liquidised remains had enough survival instinct remaining to create a little sabotage. I inhabited his TARDIS and forced it to crash-land on Earth. San Francisco, to be precise. December 30th, 1999. An unfortunate accident saw the Doctor regenerate into his eighth body – his own fault for not being prepared, I suppose. Still, it provided me with ample opportunity to seek out a new body. I possessed the body of a paramedic named Bruce, and with this body I was able to track down the Doctor and use his own ship against him.

"Every TARDIS in existence was powered by the Eye of Harmony, a kind of miniature black hole which drew its power from Gallifrey. The Eye, like the TARDIS, is semi-sentient. The Doctor's half human body meant the Eye could only be opened by a human. I lured some young unsuspecting innocents into the Eye's chamber and politely forced them to open the Eye for me. Using the Eye, I was able to transfer from Bruce's body into the Doctor's. Bruce's feeble human body collapsed and died, and I was reborn in the Doctor's body, made flesh once more. He died when I entered his body. What you see now is no longer the Doctor, although it certainly used to be."

Rose blinked, sat down slowlyand exhaled heavily. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and stared harshly back at the Master.

"And why?"

"Why? My dear, I would have thought that was obvious," chuckled the Master sadistically. "I didn't want to die. Simple as that. I wanted to make sure I was in a body that I could be prepared in. After all, the universe was rippling by this point. The beginnings of the Time War could be felt everywhere. The reverberations were widespread."

"You saw the Time War?" Rose said incredulously.

"Saw it?" the Master said slowly. The vindictive, unctuous smile crept slowly back onto his face. "My dear, dear Rose," he said, savouring the words. "I _started_ it."

_...TBC..._


	6. vi veri veniversum vivus vici

"You're lying," Rose said quietly, her voice calm and even. She smiled gently at the Master. "I know you're lying."

"My dear Rose, I assure you I am not lying," the Master replied in the same tone of voice. "I would never lie to someone who clearly knows so much about Time Lord history. It would be an insult."

"But I KNOW you're lying," said Rose insistently, still the epitome of tranquillity. "Know why?" The Master opened his mouth to object, but was cut off by Rose continuing, "Because I can see it in your eyes. I've always been able to tell when you're lying and when you're telling the truth, because your eyes give it away. Sometimes it's obvious, sometimes it's more subtle, but I can always – ALWAYS – tell."

"You forget," he said in an oily voice, "that your Doctor is dead." Rose flinched, but the Master ignored her. "The Doctor is dead and I am alive. No matter what characteristics your Doctor had, he does not have them any longer because he is not alive to have them. May I remind you, Rose, that I stole his body. I stole his body when he was in his Eighth body, and therefore this body – his Ninth – should be unrecognisable to anybody. The Doctor liked his … companions …" The word was laced with innuendo, and Rose blushed a furious shade of red as she fought back tears of anger and humiliation. "I, however, am a much more solitary creature. I have not travelled with anyone since inhabiting the Doctor's body." He leaned forward, invading Rose's personal space. She stiffened but refused to recoil, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her so uncomfortable in his presence. "The question therefore, my dear, is not about me. It's about you."

"What about me?" she asked bluntly. The Master smiled again.

"You recognised me," he said. "Or, more accurately, you recognised the Doctor. How is that possible?"

"I used to travel with the Doctor," she said.

"Used to."

"Yeah. Used to. Years ago." She gulped, trying to think of an explanation that wouldn't involve the whole 'parallel worlds' scenario. "He … told me about regeneration. Explained that you changed bodies and stuff. And he told me Time Lords had two hearts, and your medical scans have shown that your physiology is Gallifreyan, so …" She trailed off, leaving the rest of her explanation unsaid. The Master raised an eyebrow by exactly two millimetres and Rose just _knew_ he'd been practising that in front of a mirror.

"Now you're the one who's lying," he said.

"I'm not lying. It's the truth."

"We'll see."

Before Rose could even reply, the Master was out of his chair and by her side. He'd moved with a superhuman speed and grace, quite unlike the Doctor's ungainly strides, and Rose was taken aback. She looked over to Mickey for support, but he just sat in his chair, staring unblinkingly at the spot where the Master had just been. She ran over to the two-way mirror and peered through, shielding her eyes from the light so she could see into the room. Pete and Sarah Jane were also staring at the chair that Master had just vacated. Rose banged on the window with her fist, but there was no response from either of them. Nothing. She turned around and jumped when she saw the Master had moved silently to a position right behind her.

"What have you done?" she hissed. "Put them right."

"No."

"Put them right," she repeated sternly, more forcefully, "or I will make you suffer."

"Threats are useless now," he said quietly, and the hairs on the back of Rose's neck stood on end. One of his trademark smiles inched its way across his face.

"What have you done?" Rose whispered, her cool exterior crumbling. She was trembling now, fear and anger coursing through her veins, as the Master didn't move an inch.

"My dear Rose," he said icily. "I would have thought the Doctor had explained to you the wonders of Time Lord biology. Surely the clue is in the name? Time Lord. Think about it." Rose looked around and her eye fell on the clock on the wall – it had stopped. None of the hands were going round. Mickey was frozen. Sarah Jane and Pete were immobile.

"You've … you've stopped time …" she breathed.

"Well, that's a crude way of putting it," the Master said, "but you've got the general gist. Technically, time hasn't stopped. That is impossible. What I've done is merely slowed time down dramatically."

"You can do that?"

"It's child's play."

Rose's skin itched uncomfortably. She could feel the heat coming off the Master, and in the silence of the room she could just about make out the double-beat of his hearts mingled with the sound of her own heart hammering against her chest. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought he was trying to seduce her. His eyes were drilling into hers, a small smile playing on his lips. She knew that if he moved his head down just a couple of inches, his lips would be on hers. That thought more than anything else made her skin crawl.

"You seem uncomfortable," the Master commented. Rose blinked. Were her ears playing tricks on her, or was that _concern_ in his voice?

"I'm not a big fan of people invading my personal space," she retorted. The Master merely frowned slightly.

"I apologise profusely," he said, and this time Rose was sure that she could hear a note of disquiet in his voice. She relaxed ever so slightly. "Despite my harsh exterior, I don't like to make people physically uncomfortable. Biting wit and insults are more my forte. I try my best not to make people feel too ill at ease when I'm in close proximity to them." He'd lowered his voice slightly, deepening the tones. Rose could feel the reverberation of his voice deep in her chest, and she started to relax a bit more. The corners of the Master's eyes wrinkled a little as he smiled – a genuine smile, not a condescending one – and Rose couldn't help but smile back. She'd forgotten how blue his eyes were.

"You must hate it when people you dislike get too close to you," he continued, lowering his voice still further so that it came out as a husky whisper. "It must be so uncomfortable." Rose couldn't answer. She was captivated by his eyes. The icy blue fire that she had fallen in love with all those years ago was back. _This can't be the Master, _she thought. _It's got to be the Doctor. It has to be …_

"It's so much easier when you trust someone, isn't it? When you know someone and trust them so much that you'd let them do anything." Trust. There was something Rose never thought she'd do again. She'd trusted the Doctor with her life more than once, and he'd trusted her with his. The fire in his eyes burned brighter and Rose couldn't look away.

"Doctor?" she said in a cracked whisper. He brought his hands up to cup her face gently and Rose felt her heart skip a beat. _It's him,_ she thought triumphantly. _I knew it._ He smiled again.

"Fooled you."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_You could stay here, and fill your life with work and food and sleep, or you could go … anywhere." He gave a restrained smile, as if he was longing to break into a grin but was desperately trying to keep his exterior calm. Rose smiled._

Rose gaped.

"_Is it always this dangerous?"_

"Oh yes."

"_Oh yes."_

"What's going on?" Rose said. _Mickey grabbed at Rose's legs._

"I really don't know what you saw in him," the Master said patronisingly. "That jacket! Honestly." He looked at the Doctor, who ignored him. "Talk about rough stuff."

"_Yeah, I can't," Rose said apologetically. "I've got to go and find my mum, and … someone's gotta look after this stupid lump." _

"I'm standing over there," Rose said. "And … and I've got long hair. And Mickey." She looked over at the Master, who was leaning nonchalantly against the exterior of the TARDIS. "What did you do to me?"

"We're in your memories," he explained.

"But … how?"

"Time Lord."

"And why?"

"I'm nosy." He looked over at the Doctor. "And he's boring. Let's find something more fun, shall we?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_Let me out! Let me out!"_

The Master looked around. Rose had merely blinked and they'd suddenly shifted from the estate to Platform One. She looked questioningly at the Master, who merely tapped his temple.

"Very nice," he said, looking around. "Although I think I'd prefer polarised glass without the cracks in it myself." He peered out of the window and perked up considerably. "Oh, the destruction of Earth!"

"_Sunfilter rising. Sunfilter rising."_

"Showing you the death of your own planet on your first outing." He raised an eyebrow at Rose, who was watching herself hammering on the door with a look of disbelief on her face. "Well, it's one way to break the ice, I suppose …"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_We'll go down fighting, yeah?"_

"Victorian London?"

"Cardiff, actually." The Master shot her a look of pure confusion.

"Cardiff?" He looked round at the Gelth-possessed corpses and wrinkled his nose up.

"Boring."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_Hannibal?"_

"_Hannibal crossed the Alps by dissolving boulders with vinegar."_

"Downing Street?"

"Slitheen."

"Boring."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_Are you frightened, Rose Tyler?"_

The Master clicked his fingers and Rose felt a ripple of … something … pass through her, making her shiver violently. By the time she'd recovered, the Master was looking at the now-motionless Dalek with an unreadable expression on his face. The memory was frozen in time, with Rose looking at herself and Adam looking like they were playing a game of musical statues. She cleared her throat to get the Master's attention. He slowly turned his head around to look at her.

"One survived!" Rose suppressed a grin at the slight edge of panic in his voice.

"You have no idea."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"What's this place?" the Master said, squinting around. He brought up his arm to shield his eyes from the light that surrounded them, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't block the light out. Rose stood calmly beside him, the light apparently having no effect on her at all. There was an unearthly music in the background, barely audible, but still there. It felt like it was part of them.

"My memory," she said. "For an all-powerful Time Lord, you can be a bit dense sometimes." He shot her a look before continuing his attempt at working out where they were.

_I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself. _

"Bad Wolf?" he asked. Rose shrugged.

"This is all I remember," she said. "Light and music and words. If you can make any sense of it, be my guest." She took a step away from him and he frowned at her. After a moment of silence, he closed his eyes and his image flickered for a moment before he opened his eyes and stared at Rose with a look of utter horror on his face.

"You weren't lying," he whispered. "You really did destroy the Daleks." Rose just smiled.

"Boring," she said.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_I have got … a mole. Between my shoulder blades, I can feel it, there's a MOLE. And it's alright. Love the mole!"_

"He regenerated," the Master said. Rose nodded. The Master cocked his head to one side. "We'll see how he turns out."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_So, the year five billion, the Sun expands, the Earth gets roasted."_

"_That was our first date!"_

"_We had chips!"_

"That's what I'm going to look like next?" the Master said disdainfully. He wrinkled his nose up in disgust. "I'm a _scruff_." He paused for a moment and sniffed childishly. "Better than that blasted leather jacket, I suppose …"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_Hello Reinette. Hasn't time flown?"_

"_Fireplace man!"_

"Madame De Pompadour?" exclaimed the Master. He laughed appreciatively and shook his head in disbelief. "That sly old dog!" Rose glared at him harshly.

"Nothing happened," she said firmly. "They just—"

"Danced?" The Master grinned vindictively. Rose said nothing.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_You will die, and I will live."_

"Was that the _devil_?" the Master asked.

"We don't know," Rose said, shrugging. "I reckon it was, but the Doctor … I don't think he let himself believe it."

"The Devil _Incarnate_?"

"So what?" Rose demanded. The Master gazed at the scene before him and gave a low whistle. "I just have newfound respect for the Doctor now," he said. After a short pause, he said, "Well, maybe not respect _per se_ … but still … the Devil …" He paused again before looking down at Rose with a thoughtful expression on his face. "What planet was this on?"

"Thinking of making a trip?"

"Well, funny you should mention that …" Off Rose's glare of swords and daggers, he hastily continued, "Not to _unleash_ it! Great Rassilon, _never_ to unleash it! Please," he scoffed. "I _like_ the universe. It's comfy. France is a good place. I like France. Wouldn't be anywhere _near_ as fun to rule if it was all fire and brimstone."

"Then why—?"

"It's the Devil. _Incarnate_. Imagine what kind of conversationalist he'd be."

Rose just rolled her eyes.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"_Where are we? Where did the gap come out?"_

"_We're in Norway."_

"What were you doing in Norway?" the Master asked, staring confusedly at the scene in front of him. Rose watched herself talk to the Doctor for the last time and it broke her heart in more ways than one. It was bad enough that she could relive it inside the privacy of her own mind … but being here, watching it play out in front of her like a film, next to a man who looked so similar to the Doctor she used to know … it was almost too much to bear.

"He came to say goodbye," she said quietly, hoping the low volume of her voice would disguise the emotion in it.

"Is that why you're snivelling so much?" he remarked. Rose glared at him.

"I think I have a right to 'snivel'," she muttered mutinously.

"Oh, come on," he said. "He's just saying 'goodbye'. You could go and visit him at Christmas."

"I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I couldn't."

"Why –"

"I COULDN'T!" she suddenly raged, exploding with all the pent-up anger and grief trapped inside her. "I couldn't go and visit because I'm trapped here! I'm trapped on this godforsaken planet with no way of contacting him because I made a stupid, selfish decision. Oh, look at Rose Tyler! She's trying to save the world! Well, she's _not_. She's trying to make the Doctor realise how much he means to her, and trying to make him see that she's not just another little human girl! And guess what? I _failed_. I saved the world and all I got was this lousy parallel world. I can't even visit any other planets because the technology here is useless and backwards. I'm stuck here for the rest of my own life and it's all my own fucking fault!" Eyes blazing, fists clenched, Rose ignored the tears pouring down her face and just directed her tirade at the Master, who was so shocked by her outburst he'd actually backed away a couple of paces. As she struggled to get her breath back, the Master straightened his jacket delicately and raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Finished?" he asked archly. Off Rose's furious glare, he smiled. "Good. Because I think I understand everything now. Why your knowledge is so superior, why you recognised me, why you feel so empty inside – don't deny it, my dear, I'm inside your mind, remember? – and I think, after all that, I deserve a question." His smile grew wider. "What exactly _is_ the Skasis Paradigm?"

_…TBC…_


End file.
